Reading this book about Elektra Records. They talk about folk music, which was the bread and butter of that music label back in its early days.
It made me once again aware of how lyrics have never meant much if anything to me. Music is the thing. Not lyrics.
From my perspective, someone on a guitar singing lyrics I should pay attention to is not really making music. It’s some spoken word/poetry in a melodic way. I will be over it after half a song.
Music has to trigger raw, unescapable emotions, feelings, vibes not thoughts. If you’re thinking, you’re not listening.
Music is tones. Textures. Movements. It energizes. It soothes. It fits your melancholy or the needed mood. Those things are connecting with the human body and soul at a much lower level than the intellectual realm of words and lyrics.
It’s the 80s, I’m a child. Music is pouring from every room. I’m in France and overall music is probably a third French, a third American and a third English. I either don’t care about what the singer says about his girl in French, or I don’t understand what they’re saying. I naturally focus on how the music, the instruments, the production make me feel.
And the 80s are peak music (If I remember correctly, end of 70s/early 80s and end of 90s/early 00s are when the music industry made the most money). You have everything, every genre is fine. Music production then is also at its peak, profiting from all the knowledge from the 70s and the technical progress in recording gear that kept happening.
So I’m listening to everything on the FM radio. I notice what triggers goose bumps. How cool it is when instruments have a conversation between the left and right speakers. I notice the “weight” of things. Synths can be heavy and thick, but they can also be thin and fragile. Bass is that strong ass thing everywhere. Electric guitars are shape shifting all over the place.
The voice is an instrument though. I care about that. The desperation in Playboi Carti’s voice for instance, is important to the vibe. But what he’s mumbling about, I don’t care at all.
That’s why I never could get into any folk music, or rap ever. But I hear a Patrice Rushen’s chord progression and I want to close my eyes and cuddle, immediately. No thoughts. Just emotions.
